The InBetweeners
by LisaT
Summary: Starbuck and Roslin find some things in common that don't involve men named Adama...


This is canon, or it could be. I wondered how Starbuck and Roslin could go from trying to shoot each other to thinking of each other as family in some way, shape or form. It takes place somewhere between _Sometimes A Good Notion_ and _A Disquiet Follows My Soul_. All feedback welcome!

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**_The In-Betweeners_**

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Kara's hand was still raised in furious mid-thump when the door to Adama's quarter's opened. It did not, she was sourly pleased to note, swing open. Clearly Roslin had finally gained something resembling a sense of self-preservation. At least for now. She shoved the door open a little more, enough that she could slip through it, and glared at the fragile woman still clinging to the wheel.

"Madam President," she said coldly.

Roslin stayed where she was. "What do you want, Captain Thrace?" The patient authority - the voice of the adults the child Kara had hated - was still there, underlying the exhaustion and despair, and it ignited Kara's rage.

She pushed the door closed, ignoring how the older woman staggered a little once her support was removed. "You've given up."

Roslin's eyes turned glossy. "I was wrong. I was wrong about everything. I betrayed them all, made them believe something false."

"You frakkin' coward," Kara breathed. "It didn't turn out how you wanted, so you just let us all go? Just - just drop us, like you're dropping out of life?"

"I - I haven't," Roslin stammered, and Kara gave her a glance that dripped contempt.

She moved around the room, snorting as she discovered the bin with its collection of variegated tablets and bottles. "What do call this, then?" she demanded, picking up the bin and shaking it. The President whitened at the cruel sound the tablets made against the metal, but Kara did not relent, advancing until she was almost nose-to-nose with the other woman.

"The prophecy was wrong," Kara continued, letting the bin drop from her hand with a resoundling clang. "All wrong, remember? You didn't lead us to Earth, you led us to yet another nuked planet. Let's have a round of applause, shall we? And oh yeah, it wasn't even our planet to begin with! So much for prophecies!"

Roslin stiffened. "It - it wasn't all me," she whispered. "You played your part in getting us here, Captain."

Kara gave her a slap on the shoulder, a would-be hearty slap that was too forceful for Roslin in her weakened condition. "Yeah, an' you don't see me holin' up. I frakked up. Again. It's what I do, remember?"

"You're not -" Roslin began, but Kara cut her off with a rude noise.

"Please. Please spare me the platitudes. Don't tell me that I'm not responsible for forty thousand lives. Don't tell me I'm not the president and I don't understand the weight that brings. And don't, just don't, try to tell me I'm wrong about myself. I've had enough of do-gooders doing that, whether they're Cylon or human."

Roslin took a deep breath that hitched on a cough, and Kara watched as she doubled over with it, one hand braced against the wall, and found herself remembering another time she'd pushed Roslin when the other woman was _in extremis_. Common sense and even simple human kindness demanded that she do something, offer water, even help the President to a chair. But that was the kicker, wasn't it? Kara was no longer certain she had the right to claim any human virtue.

She waited in stony silence until the President straightened up, leaning more heavily against the wall than she had been doing. "I ask you again, Captain Thrace. What do you want?"

"I want for you to get a grip," Kara hissed. "I want for you to tell us that we'll keep going. Dammit, Madam President, I want for you to threaten to space me. Anything to prove that Laura Roslin is still in there somewhere."

"Perhaps that Laura Roslin is gone," the older woman panted. "I'm surprised you want her back. I didn't think you liked her much." She slid down the wall to the floor as if her legs would no longer hold her.

"I mightn't have liked her, but I respected her," Kara returned harshly. "She had a pair. She knew what she wanted and she didn't take bullshit from anyone."

Roslin gave a dull laugh. "I'm glad she made such an impression," she said wearily. Her eyes closed for a moment. When she opened them, she looked straight up at Kara, and the younger woman saw the bleakness in her eyes. "Don't you understand? There's nothing left for me, or of me. I've given all I can give. No more."

"That's crap and you know it. Yeah, so the prophecies were a frakkin' pile of worthless drivel. So what? Don't you see what that means?"

Roslin hummed. "I've a feeling you're about to tell me."

Kara grinned for the first time since she'd bulldozed her way into the room. "Keep it coming, Roslin. That's what I like to hear." Ignoring all protocol, she seated herself with easy grace and fixed unwavering eyes on the President. "You see, if the prophecies are a load of shit, then it changes everything. You won't be the dying leader any more."

Another brief laugh. "Kara, my cancer is real enough."

"Your dying doesn't have to be." She leaned forward in her eagerness. "You caught it early this time, didn't you?"

Roslin gave a non-commital hum that could have been agreement or dissent.

"So give yourself a chance. Haul that skinny ass of yours to Cottle and tell him to pump you with whatever it'll take. You don't need to sacrifice yourself just because you were wrong, or I'll start feeling you're hinting something."

"What do you mean?"

"Finding Earth like we did was my plan, not yours, remember? If anyone should be offered up to calm the Fleet's rage, it should be me. Not you."

Roslin's grey-green eyes became intent. "What's the point in that if the sacrifice has already been made?"

Kara's own eyes widened in response. "Damn that frakkin' Baltar, I'll kick his ass from here to Caprica itself. I told him to say nothing -"

"Baltar didn't say anything. I worked it out for myself."

Kara swallowed. "Did you tell the old man?"

A small smile tugged at Roslin's mouth. "We haven't spoken much since 'Earth'. My fault, not his. Besides, we've argued enough about who and what you are." Her voice faltered momentarily and she closed her eyes, but when she spoke again she sounded strong. "He loves you, Kara. As far as he's concerned you're here and that's all he needs to know."

"Silly old frakker," Kara muttered through sudden tears at this simple acknowledgement of Adama's affection for her.

"Hmmm." Kara smothered a laugh, but Roslin's next words made her choke. "What's it like, being dead?"

"I - uh - I dunno. Very much like being alive, so far."

Once again, Kara found herself the main focus of Roslin's gaze and she wriggled, wondering what was on the older woman's mind.

"How did you come back?"

"Gods, you do like asking difficult questions, don't you?"

"That's why I'm the president," Roslin shot back, and Kara grinned. She'd spent so much time being furious with _President Roslin _that she'd often forgotten how much she liked _Laura_.

"I don't know. Honestly, I'm not screwing now, ma'am. I didn't even know I wasn't alive until I found my body." She shuddered. Never would she forget how her helmeted skull had looked in its dead blonde nest. She took refuge in levity. "Let's just say that death doesn't become me. That me, anyway."

"It must have been a strange experience," Roslin said, sounding almost dreamy. "Even stranger than watching yourself die -"

"Eww."

"Hmmm. It was when I was on the basestar. I had - a vision, I suppose. Every time we jumped. And I saw myself dying in Life Station with Bill and Lee at my side. And you. You were there, too."

Kara couldn't help it. She had to know. "Um, why was I there?"

Roslin lifted one shoulder in a gesture that should have been a shrug. "Because you're Bill's daughter, and Lee's - something. And - well, because my subconscious must have wanted you there."

Kara stared. "Your subsconscious must be a very strange place."

The older woman laughed a little. "Tell me about it." She sighed. "So you really don't know how you came back?"

"Nope. Wish I did. It'd be easier if I knew why, though. I thought I understood at first, you see. Thought I'd found my purpose at last." She gave a muffled snort. "How wrong is that. Somebody up there quite clearly hates my guts. I'm dead and I still manage to be a frak-up."

"Hmm, yes. That _does_ take a rather special talent."

Roslin's voice was so expressionless that Kara blinked at her - and then she caught the President's eye and suddenly they were both laughing, howling with it, cackling like a pair of witches. Kara groaned as a stitch formed in her side - and how could _that_ happen, she wondered - and she could hear Roslin's soft moans as her weakened frame protested. It was time to let those human instincts come to the fore.

"C'mere. Let me help you up. The old man'll have my head if he comes in and finds us like this."

Roslin giggled. "But you're already dead." She groaned as Kara pulled her up. "I hate this," she grumbled. "Falling apart. Hardly able to move under my own steam unless I'm doped to the eyeballs."

Kara eased the older woman onto the sofa and handed her a glass of water, noting how the thin fingers trembled around the tumbler. She huffed. "Madam President -"

"Laura," Roslin told her. "My name is Laura. Let's face it, I'm only nominally president now - or I soon will be, and you - dead or alive, you're _family_."

Once again, Kara found herself blinking away unexpected tears. "My mum died of cancer," she said abruptly, surprising herself as much as she'd clearly surprised Roslin, if the raised eyebrows were any indication. "Lung cancer. She smoked even more than Cottle does. And disappointment. I - the last time I saw her was the day I found out. She'd a letter from the oncologist making an appointment for her treatment. She didn't go. She just - died."

"So that's why -"

Kara grimaced. "That's why I was so mad at you. You're not my mum, or anything like it, but I love the old man and he loves you. Frak Earth. Frak the scrolls and prophecies and all the rest of it. It doesn't matter."

It was Roslin's turn to snort. "Sod destiny, huh? I like the way you think, Captain. And you know what? You're right. We may not have much of a life out here, but we do have a life, and it's for living, isn't it?" The grey-green eyes began to sparkle. "Does this mean you'll give us your blessing?"

Kara gave a momentary smirk before drawing her face into an exaggerated grimace. "Hell, Roslin, don't say that. I don't want to even think about you and the old man frakking."

"You're such a frail little flower," Roslin mocked in response. She extended her hand. "Help me up. I think it's time I did a little training."

Kara obeyed. "Ew." Her eyes followed the older woman as Roslin made her way to the closet and pulled out a loose jumper and sweatpants. "Are you gonna go see Cottle?"

Roslin rolled her eyes. "Yes, I will. But not now, and not today. Diloxin's the ultimate mood-killer." She pointed a finger at Kara. "And you. Go. Thanks for the kick in the pants, but go. I've got some living to do."

"Yes, ma'am!" Kara sketched a quick salute, and left grinning.

- _fin_.


End file.
